Makers of Modern Medicine

Johann was the eldest of five children, with two sisters. He was very proud himself of the fact, that while he took from his father a large, strong, healthy frame and a dignified carriage, he had his mother's skill for putting things in order, her constancy of enterprise and her tireless faculty for hard work. After his father's death, his mother's energy and good sense enabled her to carry on the business established by the elder Müller by means of assistants, and as Coblentz was the centre of a district that during the Napoleonic wars was constantly overrun with soldiery, the shoemaking trade was profitable.

Johann seems to have learned the trade, but his mother succeeded in enabling him to begin his education seriously at the age of eleven or twelve. About this time, Joseph Görres, who was afterward the great leader of Catholic thought in Germany, and after whom is named the famous Görres Gesellschaft which stands for so much in German Catholic life and progress, was a professor in the Sekunden Schule, or secondary school, in Coblentz, and had recently published treatises on natural philosophy with special reference to physiology. Müller entered this school in 1810 and Görres did not resign his professorship until 1814, when owing to the publication of a political work he was obliged to flee from the country. It is not known how much influence Görres exercised over young Müller, but some at least of his precious love for the natural sciences, which even in his student days led to the making of natural collections of various kinds, seems to have been imbibed under the influence of the philosopher physiologist. The touching of the orbits of the two men, who were destined, more than any of their fellow-citizens of Coblentz, to influence Germany's future, must always remain an interesting consideration in the lives of both.

Johann's parents were, as might have been expected, down in the old Catholic Rhineland in the capital of the spiritual principality of Treves, faithful members of the Roman Catholic Church. Very early in life, Johann conceived the wish to become a priest. His mother, rejoiced at her son's idea, was ready to make every possible sacrifice to secure his education. It was with the intention of education for the priesthood, then, that Johann entered the Sekunden Schule, an old college of the Jesuits, in which Jesuit tradition and methods of education still survived, and in which some of the old Jesuit pupils seem still to have held positions even during Müller's time as a student (1810 to 1817).

It would appear probable that because of the traditions of Jesuit teachings that held over at the school in Coblentz, and perhaps, too, because of the presence of some of the old masters and teachers trained by them, Müller knew the ancient languages so well. He made his own translations of Plato and Aristotle, and consulted the latter especially always in the original and had a lifelong reverence for the great Greek philosophic naturalist's work, Latin he used so well as to speak it readily, and practice in the disputations of the University at Bonn made the language still more familiar to him. It was said that he wrote Latin better than German. After the fall of Napoleon the Prussian government took up the reorganization of the schools in this part of the Rhineland, and Müller became more interested in scientific studies. At this time he became devoted to mathematics, which he studied under the old pupil of Pestalozzi, Professor Leutzinger, to whom Müller, in the sketch of his life prefixed to his thesis at the university, expressed the feeling that he owed a special debt of gratitude.

During his school days Müller became a collector, as we have said, of natural objects. He was especially interested in butterflies for a time, and collected all the species in the country around. He had a curious dislike for spiders which remained with him all his life. He was able to overcome this, however, and made important studies of that insect's eyes, and of its changing expressions under the influence of fear or when about to fall upon its prey.

His feeling with regard to the insect is an index of a certain feminine quality of mind that had a characteristic expression in later life in his dislike for vivisection. He could not bring himself to the conclusion that animals must be sacrificed in the midst of horrible pain unless there was some very definite scientific point to be determined, and unless every precaution was taken to avoid inflicting needless suffering. Even then he preferred that others should do this work and more than once took occasion to point out the fallacy of physiological observations founded on animal experimentation under such anomalous circumstances, and insisted that very frequently the results gave conclusions only by analogy and not by any strict logic of animal similarity or absolute physiological nexus.

In a sketch of Müller's life, by Professor Brücke, of Vienna, himself one of the most distinguished physiologists of the nineteenth century, to whom the University of Vienna has paid the tribute of a marble bust and tablet in its courtyard, the great Austrian physiologist sums up very well the reasons for Müller's fame. Professor Brücke's tribute may be found in the Medical Times and Gazette, of London, July 17, 1858. "If we inquire," he says, "what were the circumstances to which Müller, independently of his high intellectual endowment, his gigantic power for work, the energy and massiveness of his character, and his active and vigorous bodily constitution, owed the commanding position he incontestably held among men of science in our day, we must admit that before all things this was due to the breadth and depth of the foundations upon which his intellectual cultivation had been built." Professor Brücke then dilates on the variety of scientific interests which occupied Müller's earlier years and the thoroughness with which he accomplished everything that he set himself to.

A very curious reflection on our modern methods of education, and especially the tendency to specialization and the formation of specialists from their very early years, is to be found in Brücke's account of the extent and variety of Müller's studies in all lines. Far from considering that these diverse intellectual interests hindered the development of his genius, he seems to consider that they rather aided in the evolution of that largeness of mind characteristic of the great genius. He says:

"In his schooldays Müller's attention was directed to subjects of study far beyond the mere medical curriculum, for we find him attending the lectures of celebrated professors on poetry and rhetoric, on the German language and literature, on Shakespeare and Dante." As a matter of fact, Brücke seems to have understood that no one is so little likely to make scientific discoveries as he whose mind has been directed without diversion along the narrow lines of a specialty in science. Constantly trained to see only what lies in the sphere of this short-sighted interest, the mind never raises itself to a view beyond the horizon of the already known.

The old classical training, supposed to be so useless in this matter-of-fact, practical age, trained the minds of the men who have given us all the great discoveries in science. The evolution of intellectual power consequent upon the serious study of many things proved an aid rather than a hindrance to future original work. Not one of these great scientific investigators had at the beginning any hint of the work that he was to do. It seems almost an accident that their researches should have been conducted along certain lines which led to important discoveries. What was needed for them was not special training, but that mental development which puts them on a plane of high thinking above the already known, to look for progress in science.

Müller continued for many years to entertain the idea of eventually becoming a priest. At about the age of sixteen, however, he became deeply interested in Goethe's work, and was especially attracted by the great poet's studies of scientific subjects. About this time he became interested in the collection of plants and animals and took up seriously the study of physiology. Lavater's work was, at that time, still sufficiently recent to have little of the novelty worn off, for young students, at least. At the age of eighteen Müller went to Bonn and, when about to begin his university career, hesitated as to whether he should study theology or not. His natural liking for nature study, however, finally caused him to decide in favor of a scientific career, and he began the study of medicine.

He took up his medical studies with the greatest enthusiasm. Under the special guidance of Mayer, who besides being his teacher was a personal friend, he applied himself zealously to the study of anatomy. One of his expressions in his early student days that has often been repeated, but which Müller took the greatest care in later life to correct and deny as a lasting impression, was the famous "Whatever cannot be demonstrated by the scalpel, does not exist." The professor of physiology at the time at Bonn was the famous Fredrich Nasse, especially known for the wonderful attractiveness of his lessons and his power of arousing enthusiasm in others, and it is not surprising that Müller, naturally so enthusiastic in scientific studies, should have acquired a liking for the study that he never afterward lost.

During Müller's second year of medical study the University of Bonn announced its first prize, which was to be given for an investigation of the subject of respiration in the foetus. Although Müller was only in his first year as a medical student at the time, he grappled with the difficult subject and devoted all his spare time to arranging experiments for the demonstration and investigation of doubtful points. He received the prize, and Virchow, surely a good judge in the matter, says that this work of his student days is distinguished alike by the extent of its learning and by the number and boldness of the experiments detailed. At the moment of his graduation, the young doctor, in his twenty-first year, was already a marked man. From this time on everything that he did attracted attention and had a ready audience.

Müller's mind was constantly occupied after this time with the arranging of experiments to demonstrate natural principles. How far he carried this habit of experimenting can be understood from some of the habits of control over his muscles which he had acquired by continual practice and intense attention. He had thorough control over the muscles of his ears and used often to amuse his fellow-students by their movements. The anterior and posterior muscular portions of this occipito-frontalis muscle were able readily to move his scalp and produce curious disturbances in his hair. These habits of muscular control many people have acquired. Other acquisitions of Müller's are, however, much rarer. He could, at will, contract or dilate his pupils, having secured control over his iris by practice before a mirror, and he could use the little muscles that connect the bones within the ear, the hammer, anvil and stirrup, so as to make them produce an audible click at will.

His habits of experimentation on one occasion at least placed him in a rather ridiculous position. While making his military service, it happened one day that when the command "Order arms" was given, Müller amused himself by inserting one finger after another into the muzzle of his firelock. At last his middle finger got fairly wedged into the weapon. When the order attention was given, Müller could not withdraw his finger. His predicament at once attracted notice, and he was ordered to the front to be reprimanded by the major, to the no small amusement of his comrades, who laughed heartily at his ridiculous predicament. He was sent to his quarters in disgrace and the regimental surgeon had no little trouble in liberating the thickly swollen finger.

While everything thus seemed to promise a life of experimentation, Müller's imagination had a powerful hold on him, and he gave himself up for some time to certain mystical theoretical questions and problems of introspection which, for a time, threatened to take him away from his real calling of an experimental physiologist. Fortunately for Müller, as we shall see, though at the moment he doubtless thought it a serious misfortune, these excursions into a too introspective psychology were followed by nervous troubles, what we could now call neurasthenia, and he was consequently led back to the study of external nature.

Just after Müller's promotion to the doctorate in medicine, the Rhenish universities came once more under the authority of the Prussian government, and Berlin became a Mecca for students, who looked upon it in a way as the mother university. After his graduation at Bonn, then, Müller was attracted to Berlin, and came especially under the influence of Rudolphi, who recognized his talents and gave him special opportunities for original investigation. Rudolphi's private library and his collection were placed at the command of this young original worker, who had already proved his power of investigation and his capacity for following a subject to its ultimate conclusions, even though those were not yet extrinsically known. While at Berlin, too, Müller came under the influence of the younger Meckel, whom he learned to respect very much. After Meckel's death the Archives of Physiology, previously edited by Meckel, fell into Müller's hands, who successfully continued it for many years.

At Müller's departure from Berlin he was presented by Rudolphi with an English microscope, as a testimonial of the old professor's appreciation of the young man's labors while under his observation. As Müller's pecuniary resources were very limited, this must have been an especially acceptable gift, since it enabled him to continue his researches in embryology, and it was not long before these began to bear fruit. At Bonn, to which Müller returned, he set up as a Privat-Docent in the University, and for several years eked out by teaching the allowance his mother could give him, and even by the practice of medicine.

Bonn, at this time, had a population of perhaps 30,000, and had some eighteen regular practitioners of medicine. It is easy to understand, then, that Müller's practice did not add materially to his pecuniary resources. It was not long before he gave up the practice of medicine entirely, led to the step by the sad death of a friend, who, while under his care, suffered from perforation of the intestines, followed by peritonitis. Notwithstanding the rather precarious state of his finances, at the age of twenty-six, Müller married Anna Zeiler, the daughter of a landholder in the Rhineland, not far from Bonn. He had previously dedicated to her a poem, in which he promised her, in lieu of more material advantages as a marriage settlement, an immortal name. The young man seems to have felt something of the genius that was in him, but, then, so have others, and their presages have not always been confirmed by the issue. Shortly before and after his marriage, he applied himself so hard to his investigations of many kinds that within a few months he broke down. The government allowed him a furlough, and for several months he wandered with his bride along the Rhine, in what has been described by a biographer as a "one-horse shay," and came back to his work renewed in mind and body.

As a matter of fact, Müller's breakdown was what would be called at the present time a neurasthenic attack, induced by overwork and too great introspection. He had been experimenting upon himself in many apparently harmless ways, but by methods which often cause serious trouble. It was not an unusual thing for him to fast, in order to note the physiological effect on his mind and senses of the absence of proper nutrition. He would often lie awake for hours at night in the darkness, experimenting upon himself and noting the phenomena induced, especially in his sight, by the total absence of light. He devoted himself, too, to the investigation of the curiosities of second sight; those interesting reminders of things seen long ago, though without producing much impression, and which recur at unexpected moments, to make us think that we are seeing again when we are really only unconsciously remembering. He used to exercise a good deal the faculty of bringing up objects into his vision with all the physical peculiarities of actual sight. In this his master was Goethe, who had written extensively on this subject in treating of the phenomena of vision, and who was able himself to recall to his imagination with great vividness the many shades of colors of objects with the sensory satisfaction of actual vision. Müller had this imaginative power only for the reds.

It is not surprising that a young man, engaged too exclusively at this sort of investigation, should have impaired his nervous equilibrium to some degree, and made symptoms, otherwise unimportant, appear to him as the index of serious illness. For a time Müller despaired of ever being himself again. When he had regained his health, however, he realized what had been the essential cause of his nervous condition; and so he never went back to his introspective observations, considering their results somewhat in the nature of a series of illusions.

After this, Müller devoted himself for ten years strictly to his physiological investigations. The best knowledge of what Müller accomplished for scientific medicine, during these early years, can be obtained from Virchow's summation of the discoveries of this period made shortly after his great teacher's death.

Virchow says:

"It was Müller who introduced to the knowledge of physiologists and physicians the doctrine of reflex actions, which had been already indicated by Prochaska, and simultaneously discovered by Marshall Hall and himself. Just before this Müller succeeded in showing an easy mode of performing experiments on the anterior and posterior roots of the spinal nerve in corroboration of Bell's teaching of their diverse functions. Thus he had the privilege of establishing for all time two of the greatest practical discoveries of the physiology of the nervous system.

"Next to the nerves the blood became the subject of his researches and he not only naturalized in German medicine the accurate knowledge of the fibrin and blood-corpuscles, which Hewson had cultivated with such fertility in English literature, but he also managed by simple experiment to demonstrate the peculiar composition of the vital fluid. The discernment of right methods of investigation lay ever open to his clear and cultivated intellect, and he knew well that there were cases in which the scalpel and experiments could not determine a question, and where the truth was only to be elicited by means of chemical agents and physical instruments. It was thus he discovered the peculiar gelatinous substance found in cartilage, called chondrin; thus he proved the existence of lymphatic hearts in the amphibia, and thus that he determined not only the organs but all the laws which are concerned in the production of the human voice.

"The special researches of the Bonn epoch are those of the minute structure and anatomy of the glands. They put an end to the controversy which had existed so long between adherents of Malpighi and Ruysch, concerning the sacculated extremities of the glandular follicles, and obtained for us a correct knowledge of these important organs throughout the whole animal kingdom. Perhaps his most important work is that of the Ducts of Müller, the structures (named after him) which form so important a part of the genito-urinary system in the embryo."

Practically all this had been accomplished before he was quite thirty-two years of age. In the autumn of 1832, Rudolphi, the professor of physiology at Berlin, died. As Virchow says, candidates sprung up on every side, and some who were the least qualified considered themselves best fitted for the position. Müller took an unusual step which illustrated his decision in character, though in any other it would have seemed an evidence of conceit. He declared, in an open letter, laid before the Minister of Prussia, that his claims were superior to those of any other living physiologist, except John Frederick Meckel. So powerful was the impression produced upon the minister by this letter that he immediately appointed Müller to the vacant chair.

Not long after his appointment to the chair of physiology at the University of Berlin Müller completed the well-known "Hand-book of Physiology," which established his reputation. The book is sometimes spoken of as an experimental physiology, but this is not correct. Müller was no more a mere experimentalist than Haller, and he, himself, heartily detested the tendency which experimental physiology had assumed in France, especially under the influence of Magendie. Part of Müller's aversion to experimental physiology was aesthetic. He could not bear the idea of inflicting so much pain as many of his colleagues inflicted without a thought. In his panegyric of Rudolphi, Müller says: "Rudolphi looked upon physiological experiments as having no relation to anatomical accuracy, and it is no wonder that this admirable man, who had at every opportunity expressed his abhorrence of vivisection, took up a hostile position against all hypotheses and conclusions insufficiently established upon physiological experiments." Müller adds: "We could not have failed to share his righteous indignation, had we seen how many physiologists were using every effort to reduce physiology to an experimental science by the live dissection and agonies of innumerable animals, undertaken without any definite plan, and yielding often only insignificant and imperfect results."

Müller shared these views of Rudolphi with regard to vivisection. The uncertainty of the conclusions, the amount of suffering inflicted, and the indefiniteness of the conditions of experiment, so that the conclusions could not have any very great weight, or any special accuracy of information, made him consider such experiments, unless very carefully conducted by trained investigators, as largely a waste of time and infliction of unnecessary pain and a leading astray of physiological advance because of the uncertainty involved.

The qualities in Müller's "Hand-book of Physiology," which gave it its greatest value, are the thorough review of all of the physiological literature of the world which it contains, and the greatest number of original observations it details as the basis of the principles enunciated. Müller himself said, in the preface to his "Hand-book": "I need scarcely remark that it is the duty of a scholar to make himself acquainted with the progress of science among all nations; and this is now possible and, moreover, quite indispensable in these days of progress. A purely German, French, or English school of medical science is barbarism; and in Germany we would consider the idea of an isolated English or French system of natural history, physiology or medicine just as barbarous as the notion of Prussian, Bavarian, or Austrian medicine or physiology."

How valuable the book was as the corner-stone of modern German medicine, may best be judged from Virchow's opinion of it. He says in his panegyric of Müller:

"There are two qualities in his 'Hand-book of Physiology' which have particularly enhanced my estimation of its value–its strictly philosophical method and its completeness in facts. Since the time of Haller no one has so thoroughly mastered the entire literature of natural history or collected in all directions so many original experiences, and no one has been at the same time familiar with medical practice, as well as with the remotest provinces of zoology. It has been well said that while Haller often, in doubtful questions, espoused a side which must eventually be forced to succumb, Müller always had the luck (if we may call that luck which was preceded by so much intelligent activity), sooner or later, to discern the opinion that was sure, eventually, of the victory. He was wonderfully fitted for the office of critic by his comprehensive knowledge. He knew how to discriminate the healthy from the unsound, the essential or real from the adventitious or accidental. And, in surveying the whole series of forms–often widely different–among which a well-determined plan of nature seemed to be realized, he knew the changes which not infrequently altered considerably the arrangement and composition of the substances within these forms. In Müller, as a physiologist, it is not the genius of the discoverer, nor the ground-breaking nature of his observations we admire, but rather the methodical exactness of investigation in calculating judgment, the confident tranquility and the perfect consummation of his knowledge."